y fly across the ripple.
There was a jar, a musical clinking of the reel, and when Nasmyth waded
in with ready net all thought of Gladwyne passed out of the Canadian's
mind.

After a few minutes' keen excitement, they landed the beautiful
glistening trout; and then they set off down-stream in search of another,
scrambling over rock and gravel and wading amidst the froth in the pools.
Overhead, soft gray clouds drifted by, casting long shadows across
fern-clad hillside and far-reaching moor; and the flood flashed into
silver gleams and grew dim again.

Both of the men were well content with their surroundings, and now and
then Nasmyth wondered why Clarence could not be satisfied with the simple
pleasures that were freely offered him. He could have had the esteem of
his neighbors and the good will of his tenants, and there were healthful
tasks that would have kept him occupied--the care of his estate, the
improving of the homes and conditions of life of those who worked for
him, experiments in stock-raising, local public duties. He had once
slipped badly, so badly that the offense could hardly be contemplated;
but that was when he was weak and famishing and under the influence of an
overwhelming fear. At least, he could make some reparation by leaving the
countryside better than he found it, and in this he had friends who would
loyally assist him.

Clarence, however, had chosen another way, one that led down-hill to
further dishonor; and Nasmyth considered gloomily what the end of it all
would be. Occasionally he glanced at the lithe figure of the Canadian,
standing knee-deep amid the froth of the stream. Serious-eyed, alert,
resolute, he could be depended on to carry out any purpose he had
determined on; it was his firm hands that would hold Clarence's scourge.

CHAPTER XII

MRS. GLADWYNE'S APPEAL

Millicent was sitting in a window-seat with a paint-box beside her and a
drawing of a water-ouzel upon her knee. It was a lifelike sketch, but she
had a great capacity for painstaking and she was not altogether pleased
with the drawing. The bird stood on a stone an inch or two above a
stream, its white breast harmonizing with the flecks of snowy froth, and
the rest of its rather somber plumage of the same hue as a neighboring
patch of shadow. This was as it should be, except that, as the central
object of a picture, it was too inconspicuous. She was absorbed in
contemplating it when Mrs. Gladwyne was shown in. C